The Firelord is sitting on the ground in the middle of the palace courtyard, eyes closed, face toward the rising sun.
The Firelord.
Is sitting. On the ground.
In the middle of the courtyard.
With his eyes closed.
The Kyoshi Warriors are never far off, but still.
The Firelord is sitting on the ground in the middle of the palace courtyard, eyes closed, face turned toward the rising sun.
The Captain of the Firelord's Personal Guard would never have had to put up with this kind of thing while Lord Ozai was still Firelord.
And if it had been Lady Azula instead, he wouldn't have had to worry. The girl had been more than capable of handling herself.
Firelord Zuko is, however, an unknown.
Sure, he had survived an Agne Kai with his sister. Barely. Technically, he had even won, but only because she had broken the rules and tried to attack an innocent (if a waterbender could ever be considered truly innocent) bystander.
Lady Azula would also never have left herself so open to attack.
So far, though, no one is attacking. Servants are staring a bit as they scurry past, but they all seem reluctant to risk attracting his attention.
The Kyoshi Warriors are on hand, though they, too, are an unproven force.
A small boy, likely not much more than five years old, stops before the Firelord and stares. His mother spots the wayward child too late and rushes to reclaim him, only to freeze still several feet from her objective when the Firelord opens one eye to study the interruption before him.
"Whatcha doin'?" the boy's speech reveals exactly how low his family is, and the Captain winces. For someone of such low birth to even make eye contact with royalty is considered grave insult.
"Meditating," the Firelord replies, his voice calm and even, as if someone forgot to tell him he was being insulted. The two remain as they are for a moment, each studying the other, until the boy once again opens his mouth and insults his Firelord.
"Why's your face like that?" he asks, and his mother, still held in place by sheer terror of the figure seated on the ground before her son, pales.
The Firelord raises a hand to the scar that everyone has been so very careful not to so much as look at. "I was burned," he replies, his voice low. "Several years ago. It left a scar."
The boy reaches out without warning, tiny fingers coming into contact with marred skin and nearly poking the Firelord in the eye in the process. "Does it hurt?" the boy asks.
"Not as long as you're gentle." There's a soft reprimand in the words, and the boy nods solemnly and continues his perusal of the Firelord's face more carefully.
The Firelord allows this invasion. This insult. He sits there and lets this small peasant child run his grubby hands over his scarred face. When the boy finishes, he has the audacity to sit down next to the Firelord as if they were old friends.
"Why are you med-med-"
"Meditating," the Firelord corrects. "Meditation helps with awareness and control of the mind, body, and chi." The boy makes a face, and receives a wry smile in return. "It helps me stay calm, and think more clearly, especially when I'm upset," he offers.
The boy nods, and opens his mouth to ask another question, but by this point his mother has recovered enough to dart forward, grab the boy by the hand, and drag him out of reach of the Firelord, apologizing profusely all the while.
"He didn't mean no harm, Firelord Zuko, really he didn't," the woman promises. She's already crying, but if serving under several Firelords has taught the Captain of the Guard anything, it's that apologies and excuses will do nothing. The Firelord will do as he pleases, and he will do it in his own time.
The Firelord looks at her, then at the boy, his expression carefully neutral. He's figured out by now, the captain thinks, that people are always watching, always waiting, for any sign of displeasure.
"He's just a child," Firelord Zuko says, climbing to his feet. "No harm done."
He's used that phrase a lot since the coronation. Their current Firelord does not seem to take accidents personally in the same way that his predecessors did. Whether or not that is a weakness remains to be seen.
The woman dares to relax just a tiny bit, at least until the Firelord looks down at her son, offers a smile that looks more pained than anything else, and winks at the boy with his unscarred eye before nodding to his speechless mother and walking away.
Disclaimer: Avatar: The Last Airbender does not belong to me.
Author's Note: Not feeling particularly inspired at the moment. Trying to get some stuff out anyway...fortunately I do have some pieces already written, or at least partially written, that I can hopefully finish up and get out. Anyway, thanks to all who read and review.